


When You're On Your Knees (We're Friends)

by iktwabrokenbone (apiculteur)



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Biting, Butt Plugs, Collars, Dom/sub, Handcuffs, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 02:20:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2133441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apiculteur/pseuds/iktwabrokenbone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sub!Pete, in which there's leather hand cuffs, a collar, slight choking, biting, and probably some other things I'm forgetting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You're On Your Knees (We're Friends)

**Author's Note:**

> today i woke up at 3pm feeling really productive. it is now 2am and this is all i have done. but w/e, yeah, maybe i got really angry for no reason half way through drawing a (not) angel, and never finished it, but at least we've got kinky porn and unnecessary notes on said kinky porn with too many useless details about my life.
> 
> title from our lawyers by fob

Pete was standing, naked apart from the collar around his neck, when Patrick turned around, leather cuffs in hand. They were new, and the leather was still stiff as Patrick fastened them around his wrist, cuffed him to the headboard. Pete knelt on the bed, but the chain between the cuffs was long enough that Patrick could get him to lie on his back if he wanted to.

Pete could see Patrick picking up the lube from the bed, squeezing some onto his finger and not giving it time to warm up before slipping a finger into Pete. He almost flinched away from the unpleasantly cold feeling, but he knew Patrick wanted him to be still, so he didn't.

"Good boy," Patrick murmured, voice deep and sexy and only just loud enough to be heard, as he pressed another finger into Pete's ass. It was slightly too quick, just enough to feel a bit uncomfortable without hurting. A third finger was added, then a fourth, both after not quite enough stretching.

Patrick took his fingers away, and Pete knew he was slicking up a butt plug, had been through this many times. The plug was thick, and Pete was pleased the fourth finger had been added, would've struggled to take it otherwise.

He felt Patrick's warm body above him, leaning around to kiss him, with a bit too much teeth, and Pete's mouth was too open, too wet. He held back a moan.

Pete could feel Patrick's weight leave the bed, hear him take a tissue from the box, presumably to clean off his hand. "Im going to go watch TV now," he said, casual, as though Pete wouldn't be aching by the time he returned. "Stay still. Don't make a noise."

Patrick ran his hand across Pete's ass, pressing on the plug, before leaving. His dick throbbed, too hard from Patrick fingering him, and his knees were beginning to ache. He couldn't see a clock, but he guessed it had been about ten minutes. Patrick wouldn't be back for at least another twenty minutes, probably closer to fifty minutes though. He shifted onto one knee then the other, trying to get rid of the ache.

It worked, but it also shifted the plug in his ass, making it brush against his prostate. He didn't whimper, didn't make a noise, because even if Patrick wasn't there, he didn't want to disobey him.

He probably spent another half an hour, just kneeling on the bed, waiting for Patrick and shifting increasingly often. He wanted to moan, to slip off the cuffs and jerk himself off, but instead he stayed still and didn't make a noise.

Eventually, he heard footsteps approaching, Patrick returning. The door opened with a small creak, the sound of wood against the carpet. "Have you been good?" he asked. Pete was silent, because he hadn't been given permission to speak. "Answer."

"Yes," he said.

"Good." Patrick's hand was running over Pete's ass, nudging against the plug occasionally, making Pete have to try his hardest not to moan or jerk, push back against it. He had been hard for almost an hour now, by Pete's estimate, and he just wanted to get off. He knew Patrick was smirking behind him, heard him let out an amused breath.

Too quick, Patrick took out the plug, and he felt painfully _empty_ after being so full for so long. He swallowed against the whine fighting its way out of his throat, squeezed his eyes tightly shut and clenched his fists around handfuls of sheets.

He heard Patrick's zipper behind him, the cap of the lube clicking open, then shut. Patrick pressed his dick against his hole a few seconds later, and, seriously, what happened to shoving things into his ass too quick? He wanted Patrick to fuck him, right now, he didn't want this long wait. Eventually, he slid into him, slow, obviously indulging himself, and tormenting Pete.

It took him a while to build up speed, get a rhythm going, but when he did, Pete was panting, the tiny, accidental sounds he made covered up by Patrick's grunting. Patrick leaned over Pete, the material of his t-shirt brushing over Pete's skin, and held onto Pete's collar, used it to lift his head up. His breathing grew heavier, impended by the leather tight around his neck, but, fuck, he couldn't come, not until Patrick said so.

Patrick let go before Pete found it too difficult to breathe, instead placing a calloused hand on his jaw, using it to turn his head around. It was an awkward angle, but Patrick managed to press biting, open-mouthed kisses onto his jaw and lips. Pete's lip split open, a small stinging cut, and he moaned, unable to suppress it anymore. He was so fucking close to coming, just needed Patrick's word, and they both knew it, so Patrick let him off with a bite on the shoulder, hard enough to bruise, but not bleed.

It wasn't long after that Patrick started to speed up, movements less coordinated, moaning, and then coming. _Shit_ , Pete could come just from listening to the sound of his voice, his pants and moans. They needed to have phone sex sometime.

Patrick pulled out, breathing still heaving. He patted him on the shoulder, encouraging him to turn over onto his back. He did so, and Patrick straddled his hips, bending down so they were close, and Pete could hear his voice, rough from sex."Do you wanna come?" he asked, and Pete wanted to shout that, _yes_ , of course he did, please let him.

He made do with just a, "Yes," said very desperately.

Patrick looked him in the eyes, and said, "Come."

Pete did, without so much as a touch, and Patrick grinned, placed a tender kiss on his lips. Pete felt the pleasant scratch of stubble that he hadn't noticed before, had been too turned on and distracted to separate it from all of the other sensations he had been feeling.

Patrick undid the straps on the cuffs, freeing his wrists, and then undid his collar. Pete turned over, pressing his back against Patrick's chest. He was tired, and wanted to sleep, but 'Trick pulled away, and got off the bed. Pete whined, only getting a laugh in response.

"Gimme a sec. I'm not going to sleep fully clothed, Pete," he said, and Pete could hear clothes being thrown to the ground, predicted he would probably lose at least one sock, and maybe his underwear too. When Patrick returned, Pete blindly searched for Patrick's hand, interlinking their fingers when he found it.

"I love you," Patrick said, squeezing Pete's hand.

"I know." He smirked, enjoying the equal parts annoyed and amused huff from Patrick. Whatever, Star Wars references had always been a part of this deal. He couldn't back out now. Pete squeezed Patrick's hand, and used his tongue to open the cut on his lip. He smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading. kudos and comments would be appreciated.


End file.
